Unexpected, or what?
by pictureperfectmemory
Summary: Who knew you could fall in love with the girl who saved you from suffering a slow and tragic death locked in a coffin and assumed dead? Not Santana for sure. Brittana one shot.


**this is being posted on its own, but i;m gonna post it in 20 firsts too, so here ya go. I don't know if the stuff i write in this can actually happen but who cares, that's why its called fanfiction ;)**

**...**

When she woke up it was dark. Really the dark. The type of dark where you can't see a thing. And it was stuffy. She felt claustrophobic. She tried moving her arms, but as soon as she lifted them, they hit something. She tried moving her legs, but they were stuck in place. Feeling around in sheer panic and minimal space, she felt a soft silk. Reaching up, she hit the hard surface again, stroking it with her left hand, it was smooth and felt like wood. Maybe it was mahogany. No, she despised mahogany, she could sense mahogany from a mile off and her body wouldn't even go near mahogany if it tried.

Breathing out through her nose, she realized how small the confined space she was in really was. She felt the breath floating around her head and it made her feel wheezy.

The dull pain she had had in her head since she awoke wasn't doing any help.

Straining her ear, she listened for any sounds but she heard nothing apart from the short breaths she was taking. She tried banging with her hands but hardly any sound was made due to the short space. Bringing her hand to her head after straining, she pressed it to her forehead. She was burning up, really burning up.

Where the hell was she and why the hell was she here?

She tried shouting, but her voice travelled no where but to her ears that caused her head to throb more.

And that's when she realized. She was in a coffin. Of course she was in a fucking coffin. She had seen this type of shit in movies and judging by the way she was lying, she was in a coffin. She knew she wasn't dreaming, it was too real to be a dream.

Brushing her hands up the side of her body in a frantic pace, she cursed under her breath when she didn't feel the rectangular shape in what she pressumed to be her designer blazer pocket. Then she remembered that she didn't keep her phone in her side pockets, always the pocket placed directly on her book.

Squeezing a hand up her body again, she fumbled around for her trusted phone until she finally grasped it. Turning it on, she thanked whatever god was looking over her when she saw she had just enough battery to make a call. The signal bars were high and the password had been taken off, which was good because she couldn't remember a damn thing at this moment in time.

Going onto her contacts, her panic doubled when she realized that all memory on her phone must have been wiped at her so called funeral, pressuming she did have a funeral, and all of her contacts numbers were gone.

She could easily call 911, but what cop would believe that there was a woman locked in a coffin? They'd brush it off as a prank call and go on with their lives, whilst she would die in this coffin.

_Fuck it, _she thought and went onto the calls icon. Dialing in a random number, as she didn't bother to remember any friends or family's numbers, she pressed the green button and waited as the call went through.

She almost had a heart attack when the line clicked and she was met with the voice of an angel.

"Hello?" The beautiful voice said into the phone with a cheery voice.

"Hi," she said, finding her voice. "You don't by any chance happen to live in Philadelphia, do you?" She muttered into the phone, anxiously waiting for an answer.

"Yes, why? Who is this? Is this a telemarketer? If so, I'm not paying for the porn Lord Tubbington's been watching. No uh, not on my watch, so if you intend on wasting my time, I'm going to hang up the phone." The voice raced into her ear and she almost, _almost,_ laughed but given her current situation, she didn't.

"No, wait! I'm not a telemarketer. Actually, I'm a lawyer. And no, I don't intend to waste your time, you just have to promise you're going to listen to me and not hang up. This is serious."

"Am I in some sort of trouble? Did Lord Tubbington steal tabacco from the general store again? I told him to stop doing that, I even took away his phone for a week-"

"No, no. You're not in trouble, this isn't about you, infact, I don't even know who you are." She was getting restless and thought about hanging up the phone but thought against it with slight hesitation.

"Then why are you calling me if you don't know who I am?" The voice sounded slightly worried.

"Because I'm stuck in a coffin and I dialed a random number and you picked up and you might be the only chance I have to surviving!" She ranted into the phone, slightly agitated by now.

"Wait, wait?"

"I know you're going to think this is crazy but-"

"No, what? Where are you stuck? Oh my god!"

"I'm stuck in a coffin. I don't know where. I don't know why. I'm thinking I had a massive accident, that's what the pain in my head is telling me, and people thought I was dead. Nevertheless, I'm stuck and I really, really need your help or I'm going to die." Her voice was choppy and her breath was becoming labored.

"How do I know how to get to you? Are you going to kill me if I come?" Her voice sounded panicked, as if she was about to be placed in a room full of deadly spiders.

"If I am in a coffin as I think, knowing my parents I'd have probably been placed in the crypt in Greenmount Cemetry with my abuelo. You're going to have to go to my house and get the key to get in here, I know you may be freaked out but-"

"I'm going to have to go into a scary crypt where a dead person is in a coffin?!" The voice shreaked.

She winced. "Technically you won't be alone, I'll be with you, just locked in the coffin. Please, come, I'm begging you. I'll pay you if you like just-" She was desperate. She was desperate to get out of here. She needed to get out of her.

"Okay, I'll come. I don't want your money. Tell me where you live and where the key is, I'll be there as soon as possible." The stranger whispered into the phone.

She sighed in relief. She was going to be saved. Well, unless the cops caught the person behind this beautiful voice. According to her phone it was almost midnight, any person in a cememtry at those times alone would either be considered plain crazy or assumed to be a grave robber. Where those even still around?

"Hello?" The voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"Oh, yeah. My house is on West Dealy Street. It's the big white one at the end, you won't miss it. There's a spare key under a lose plank on the porch steps. The crypt key is in the left bedside cabinet second draw. It's tied to a red piece of string. When you come, you're going to need a flashlight. There's one in my pantry on the first shelf." Her voice was fast, she needed to get out of this coffin.

"Right, got it. And when I arrive at the cemety? There's a lot of crypts in Greenmount cemetry, I drive past there every Saturday. What name will be on it?"

"Lopez. It's the large marble one of the north east side. Please hurry up." She whimpered.

"I'll be as quick as I can, I promise, as long as this isn't just a set up and you're not going to murder me when I get there." Her voice sounded wary, almost skeptical.

"I'm not going to murder you."

"I believe you. What's your name by the way?"

"Santana." She breathed in the phone.

"Santana, you have nothing to worry about. I'm going to be there in like, ten minutes, you're going to be fine. Even if this crazy and I totally shouldn't be talking to a stranger and going out alone at night, I'm going to rescue you." The voice reassured.

"Thank you." Santana was almost crying by now.

"Don't start getting sappy on me, Lopez. I told you, you're going to be fine." The girl on the other end warned playfully.

At this Santana let out a small laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm just really overwhelmed. What's your name by the way? I need to know the name of the good citizen who raced to save me but couldn't because for some reason, as luck would have it, the crypt wouldn't open and I'd perish in a coffin."

"I'm not going to let you die, Santana. Just trust me. My name is Brittany. I'm going to hang up now and go get that key before you become dehydrated, because you've been in that coffin for God knows how long."

"No! I mean, please don't hang up. I'm scared you won't come. Just stay on the phone until you get here, please. It's all going on my bill, don't worry." To say Santana's stomach was feeling funny was an understatement.

"Okay, fine. I'll stay on. Just don't die on me Santana." Brittany told her.

"I'll try." Santana whispered, and she could almost feel Brittany's smile.

"Good," Brittany whispered back as quietly.

"My abuelo's coffin is the grey one on the far right, don't open that. I'll obviously be in the other one, remember that. And Brittany? Please bring me some water and-"

The line went dead. When she turned her phone to her face, the screen was black and wouldn't come on.

...

Her heart flipped. _This is it, _she squeezed her eyes shut, _I'm going to die in this coffin. Is this karma? Is this because I'm a lesbian? Am I really going to die slowly in sin?_

She tried to calm herself but she couldn't. Surely this Brittany girl wouldn't come now, she'd think it was all a joke and get on with her life, as would the cops if she would have called them, not knowing that this really was a serious situation and she was in need of help.

_I hated the world anyway._ She snarled into the enclosed box. She settled down, thinking she might aswell get comfortable if she was going to die in this god damn place. She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would take over her and her death would come quicker, maybe she would even die in her sleep.

...

If she could, she would have jumped ten feet high, when awoke, to the loud screech of the what she thought was the crypt door opening.

She heard the footsteps, she heard the panting of someone as if they'd been running for their life.

_She came._ Brittany actually came. She whimpered. She was going to be saved.

The thud of something loud almost made her scream but she kept it in, she felt like banging on the wood of the coffin to get Brittany's attention, but she'd told her which one her abuelo's casket was, she'd know which one she was in.

But what if this Brittany girl wasn't who she sounded? What if this was some crazy ax murderer who came to finish the job?

No. This girl sounded like a freaking angel. She promised her she would save her.

The footsteps sounded as if they had came closer and in a second, the lid of her coffin was being pushed to the side and she caught a glance of a pale arm.

"Thank god!" The voice she'd heard on the phone came from the most beautiful person she'd ever seen in her life. There, standing above her, all sweaty and red in the face, was the most perfect being in history. Blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles covering her nose and cheeks. She was an angel.

"I actually thought this was going to be a joke, ya know, some crazy person called me here in hopes of me getting arrested or even worse, haunted for the rest of my life by the crypts occupiers." Santana was stunned to say the least, even if she was gasping for fresh air.

"I know you're in shock and I'm sorry if I smell, but I'm going to pull you out of there because this place is giving me the worst of the creepers and I'm pretty sure somebody will see the door open and call the cops, so c'mon, let's go!"

The next thing Santana knew was she was getting lifted out of the coffin by strong arms and carried bridal style out of the crypt before she was set on the ground.

"Do your legs feel okay? Can you stand? I left the flashlight back in there, I'll be right back. Oh! Here's your water!" And then blonde haired angel was gone, only for a mere ten seconds, before she was back locking the crypt door and grabbing Santana's hand, pulling her through the cemetry and back to her car, the exact same as Santana's but in silver.

"Well go on, get in, quick." Brittany's voice rushed her to the passenger door before she flung it open and jumped in, needing to get as far away from that place and as soon as possible.

The engine was still running and as soon as Brittany got in, she put the car into drive and sped away from the cemetry.

A pale hand was placed on a tan one over the center console of the car. Shivers ran up both arms, but the pale hand did not retract from its place on top of the tan one. "Are you okay? I was so freaked out back there, I can't imagine how you feel."

Santana looked up to the blondes face, admiring the beauty that was right infront of her. "I'm okay. I'm fine now."

The blonde smiled. Silence.

"Brittany..."

The blonde whipped her head around and stopped the car suddenly. She dived over the center console and brought Santana into her arms, almost squeezing the life out of her.

The hug was sudden but Santana welcomed it easily. She wrapped her arms around the blonde who saved her life and inhaled in a faint coconut scent.

"It's crazy, I know it is, but I'm so thankful you called my number, I mean, I don't even know you but I'm so glad I saved you from dying alone. No person should have to go through that and ya know, if you would have died and I knew I had the chance to save you, it would have killed me." The blonde was crying, Santana was sure of it, she gripped tighter to the warm body and buried her face into blonde curls.

"Thank you." Santana whispered. "Any other person would've told me to stop fooling around, I'm so glad it was you that answered the phone. _So _glad."

Brittany pulled away from the brown haired woman and smiled faintly. She squeezed her shoulder fairmly and rolled back into the drivers seat. Santana sat gaping at what just happened. She needed Brittany's body back on her own. She needed to inhale the coconut smell again. She needed the feel the warmth and tingles cursing through her body.

"Right," there was a crack in Brittany's voice. "Let's take you to the police station and to the hospital. They need to know you're not real dead." Putting the car back into drive, she headed towards the station.

Santana was to dazed from the hug and the intoxicating smell of Brittany to even focus on anything else and mumbled a simple "kay."

...

Santana's apparent fake death was the talk of the town, possibly the state for the next week. The night after she and Brittany had parted ways after a visit to the hospital to check for concussion or dehydration, news reporters were stampeding Santana's front lawn.

People claimed she had faked death clearly for the attention, people said the conversation between her and Brittany on the phone(police had traced it) was an act and people told the news papers they knew it was going to happen.

Of course, this was all fake and officials at the hospital and funeral director service came forward and told them this was no phony and they honestly thought Santana was dead. Apparently she'd been knocked out by some drunk on her way to the store and hit her head on the sidewalk, which explains for her head pain, and was declared in a coma. The head doctor said he had felt endlessly for pulse and found none, and that Santana 'coming back to life' was a miracle.

Brittany had news articles written about her, she was a hero in their eyes. Of course, she brushed it off, just like Santana thought she would despite knowing her for such a short period of time. They kept in touch of course, they would text daily, Brittany constantly asked Santana if she was okay, and the conversation always ended with _no problem, cleopatra_(a nickname Brittany had given Santana at the hospital) after Santana thanked her for the nth time.

It all blew over a couple of weeks later of course, Santana resumed her work as a lawyer and Brittany went back to doing what ever she did. Santana didn't know yet, but she was determined too.)

...

It was Brittany who schedueled this 'reunion'. They hadn't seen each other since a couple of days after the incident, and Santana missed her like crazy. It was weird, considering she wasn't in her life before and she had no reason to miss her, but she did, and that was final. She had a longing for Brittany that she didn't want, but she couldn't help it.

They were meeting at a coffee house near the outskirts of town, as far away as the cemetry as possible.

As soon as Brittany saw Santana seated near the back, she bounded over and pulled her off the chair into a warm embrace that Santana didn't want to part from. She smelled of the damn coconut again and it tugged at Santana's heart strings.

"You look nice." Brittany commented and it made Santana grin like a fool.

"Why thank you, you don't look to bad yourself." Santana winked in a playful way and this time it was Brittany who grinned.

They ordered their drinks and a muffin each, which they ended up dumping in the bin after the first bite because they "tasted like crap"(Santana's words) and spent almost an hour talking, smiling, laughing until Brittany brought it up.

"I wanted to tell you something," Brittany spoke after taking a long sip of her third coffee. "This- this will probably be the last time you see me for a while, well ever."

And just like that, Santana's air supply had been taken away and her heart shattered.

"W-what? Why?" She stuttered, trying to keep herself together.

"Long story short, my business want to relocate to NYC. Bigger, better opportunities they said." It pained Brittany to say it, really, she wanted nothing more than to stay in Philly and carry on being friends with Santana.

"When are you going?" Santana replied, hoarsely.

"The second of next month." Brittany answered in a whisper, not meeting her brunette companions eye.

"That's so soon." Santana stated.

The blonde sucked in a breath. "I know." Biting her lip, she looked up trying to find Santana's eyes. She didn't meet them but saw they were filled with unshed tears.

"Santana-"

"Let me come with you." The tan girl said, her teeth clenching.

"What?" Brittany shifted in her seat, trying to get closer to her friend.

"I said, let me come with you. Let me come to New York with you. Please, let me." It was said in a whisper, but Brittany heard it loud and clear. Shaking her head, she stared at Santana.

"Why on earth would you want to come with me?" Brittany asked quickly, not noticing the way Santana tensed up at her question.

_3 2 1.. _"Because. Because I'm in love with you," Brittany froze but Santana carried on. "I've been in love with you the second I laid my eyes on you, hell the second I heard your voice even. I thought you were an angel a-and when you hugged me for the first time I felt like I was in heaven. You've been on my mind ever since and I know, I just know that I'm in love with you. I can't let you leave without knowing that."

Santana finished, taking a huge breathe and looking at Brittany, waiting for her reaction. When she saw the blonde staring at her, her heart broke again.

Standing up suddenly, she roughly pushed the chair back and made a start for the exit, mumbling a sorry whilst trying to keep her tears at bay. Her heart did over one hundred flips when a soft pale hand grasped hold of her wrist and pulled her back into a tall body.

Brittany was standing with a small smile on her face, it was subtle, but Santana could see it clearly.

"You're serious, right?" She asked Santana, who was ready to burst into to tears.

Santana gulped, she felt it travel right down her throat. "Uh-huh. Yeah." She confirmed and then a face was flying towards her and lips were attaching onto her own and hands were gripping her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.

If she never almost died in that coffin, she was almost certainly dying now.

After idle seconds of standing in shock, she started to kiss back furiously, grabbing Brittany's neck and forcing their lips together hard. She nearly fainted when a soft velvety tongue swiped the inside of her upper lip and when white teeth knashed at her bottom.

When they finally broke apart, now only aware they had given the whole coffee shop a show, the two of them grabbed their bags, threw money on the table and ran outside, where again, Brittany pulled Santana into her.

"I'm in love with you, too Santana. I fell hard." And yep, Santana was definitely dying.

"You're crazy." She smiled lovingly at the blonde.

"We're both crazy." The blonde bit back with a grin, never letting her hold of the caramel skin she had in her grip.

"I meant it, you know?"

Brittany shot her a look of confusion. "Which? The love confession, I'm hoping you did mean it or that, sweet cheeks, would break my heart."

Santana laughed. "No, I meant it when I said let me come with you. I want to come, and after that show, I don't think I could let you go."

"What about your job? Your family?"

"My dad owns a top firm, he could easily get me a job in New York, like you said, there's better and bigger opportunities, which by the way made me remember I don't know what it is that you do.."

Brittany bit back a grin. "I'm in advertising and PR for celebrities."

"You're lying!" Santana gasped.

"Nope."

"You've been holding out on me, Pierce."

The blonde stuck her tongue out at the shorter girl, who she still had in tight grip. "So, we're going to New York?"

"Indeed we are." Santana confirmed with a nod.

"Awesome." Brittany whispered, closing the gap between their lips again. They both hummed in appreciation and when Brittany pulled back and ran for her car, Santana was lost.

"What're you doing?"

"Going to your house, come on! We've got pack your things!"

And yep, Santana was now dead. Her heart ached with love as she walked to Brittany's car and got in the passenger side.

She smiled at Brittany who was already staring when she turned around.

"I love you."

Brittany grasped her hand over the center console again, a thing that made Santana's head go fuzzy.

"I love you too, Brit."

...

**aaaaaaaaand they got married and had kids and lived happily ever after. **

**not really happy with this but ah well, life goes on.**


End file.
